reshma_kausar_mohideen

Insta handle: sword_of_word_86. Reshma Kausar Mohideen is a commerce professor. She is an aspiring writer as well .

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  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 13w

    झूठ

    कलयुग का सबसे बड़ा सच झूठ है|
    reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 19w

    SILVER BLADE.

    She was lost in the realms of her beauty and youth,
    She was being dragged far away from the truth,
    Her heart and soul were being captivated,
    The charm of glittery lies made her elated.

    At the pinnacle of her pride she was drowning deep,
    The slopes of youth, she'd forgotten, are too steep,
    They clung onto her like stubborn bees,
    The nectar of her youth, they wished to seize.

    Their gestures too sweet to be untrue, she ignorantly assumed,
    Little did she know, concealed were their personae, dark-fumed,
    True were the only one's who sounded bitter, filthy games who never played,
    She realised only after her trust was tattered with the silver blade.

    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 28w

    LIFE.

    Life is a journey from the womb of mother to the womb of mother Earth.

    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 30w

    I FEEL LIKE...

    I feel like the sky who's destined to embrace the moon, whatsoever be it's phase.
    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 35w

    DIARY (8 WORDS)

    DIARY IS THE REFLECTION OF A WRITER'S HEART.
    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 36w

    BEAUTY.

    Beaty is upon the point of utmost dark that becomes the womb to nurture the first beam of hope.
    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 36w

    SOCIETY

    If I were a society, I would have never been like a court room where each one is a judge but none likes to be judged,
    If I were a society, I would have never been like an university where everyone wants to preach but none wants to learn,
    If I were a society I would have never been like a foe in disguise who's friendly to it's people in the most unfriendly way,
    If I were a society, I would have been like a bridge to cement the gap between past and new generations,
    If I were a society I would have been like an accelerator to ensure upward movements in terms of development and downward movements in terms of blind faiths amd superstitions,
    if I were a society I would have never been like the heap of sand that pulls the person down everytime he wishes to climb up,
    If I were a society I WOULD HAVE JUST BEEN A SOCIETY.

    -Reshma kausar Mohideen
    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 37w

    THE POWER OF MY PEN.

    Reluctant to inhale the novelty of the world and diffuse its fragrance,
    A newborn bud suffocated within, feared opening up, too timid and shy,
    Overlapped the dried tears, silent roars, calmed anger, the real me vaporised in essence,
    The one whom I once hated the most is the soulmate now, all other bonds glitter with a lustrous die,
    My metallic pen owns a golden heart, rusted humans gilded with goodness corroded my innocence.

    Like the sharp blades of cascade falling from a great height,
    Splitting the chest of stubborn rocks, kissing the depth of poised waves,
    Like the tiniest point getting targeted by the sharp beam of razor light,
    The ink of my pen is such, through thy damp eyes, seeping into heart, it paves,
    The way to the abyss of thy soul, eroding darkness, to unleash thy own light.

    The inky wine it spills on the virgin pages toxicates those who read and preserve,
    It bleaches off the scars of wounded hearts, words turn out to be a healing potion,
    I have risen in love unlike others who stumble upon and fall over the slippery pebbles of love,
    An immortal holds my mortal breaths fighting against the gravity of death's cushion,
    I meditate in the arms of my addiction, gain freedom in it's slavery, nothing better than this heavens could ever serve.
    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 37w

    ONCE WHEN
    I WAS YOUNG.


    Once when I was young,
    I used to get scolded by my parents and teachers,
    As my fingers cease to create magic on blank papers,
    My unfriendly pen's writing appeared like ugly creatures.

    Once when I young,
    I used to draw mirror image of alphabets,
    Letters were my enemy, except O & I, my fingers' pets,
    I could seldom write clean, without any mistakes and regrets.

    Once when I was young,
    I never liked the concept of spelling and dictation,
    I struggled with phono - graphics and diction,
    Memorising peculiarly, my tongue tasted friction.

    Once when I was young,
    I loved the people around me, I cared and trusted,
    To fit In to their Boxes of Perfection, I shrunk and adjusted,
    Stupid me did not know, those smiles were greeced with greed and hugs, lusted.

    Now that I have grown up,
    I noticed my books have put on the cloak to be my dear diary,
    The pen that betrayed me then, still stands aside, my only confidant, my dearie,
    My foes then are my friends forever now, they all blend smoothly to be my poetry.
    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 37w

    RED LINES.

    (PROSE)

    She had never waited too long for someone or something, may be nothing could ignite the lamp of her desires too long.
    The number of times you fail is directly related to the increase in the intensity of your desires. Red lines, yes red lines, which she hated to the core as a student because those red lines in the marksheet invited taunts from her parents and compelled her to re-appearing for the paper she didn't like.
    Time has taken her on a roller- coaster ride. It is the same girl who used to curse those red lines wishes to be blessed by them.
    Every month she buys a pregnancy kit, get herself tested and desires to get those two lines.
    It's been five years, it seems the red lines she used to curse then are too disappointed to visit her. She is still waiting, holding onto hopes firmly.
    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen